In My Dreams
by Wekya
Summary: What if everything that's happened so far was just a feverish dream of Alec's?


Brooke (MaybeTheresHope) wrote a prompt a while ago about what if Alec wakes up and everything was just a dream. I went in a different direction than her prompt but the base idea is the same so I'm giving her the credit. Enjoy!

* * *

Alec's grip tightened around his seraph blade as he stared at the blood-covered child. She was dead. Camille was dead, his chance for revenge robbed by this little heathen.

He clenched his jaw, the anger and frustration building up in him as he fought to remain in control. Maureen was not someone he had the liberty of dropping his guard around, regardless of all the shit he'd been through. Now was not the time.

Maureen cocked her head, that sickening smile still on her face. "It was nice talking, Alec, but I have orders. I don't really want to do this because you're Simon's friend, but you know…"

In a flash, the girl was gone. Alec's heart jumped to this throat as he looked around desperately, trying to keep track of her. He spun around, his seraph blade's light illuminating barely two feet in front of him. His senses were in overdrive and yet he could hear and see nothing.

"I can't have you interrupting my plans, Shadowhunter." The whisper behind Alec sent a shock up his spine, but before he could even turn around, cold hands had wrapped around his neck and violently pulled him down. He crashed onto the ground, the wind knocked out of his lungs and the seraph blade spiraling across the floor.

His vision swirled at the impact of his head against the cement floor and he gasped for air that wouldn't enter his lungs. He was jerked up and a sharp pain entered his neck.

Gasping and chocking, he fought to push the new head vampire off him but dizziness and weakness came quickly as he could not control the pounding of his heart.

While others would mourn his death worthy of a Shadowhunter, he couldn't help the disappointment, as his arms went slack, of having to leave too soon. To never have earned _his forgiveness_.

* * *

Alec gasped violently as his whole body jolted up off the bed. He was covered in sweat, his vision a blur of white and spots, his limbs trembling as he struggled to get enough oxygen into his lungs. His fingers dug into the soft fabric underneath him, the feeling familiar. The scent of the room was also familiar and calming, and his breathing finally began to slow as his eyes confirmed his surroundings.

He was home. In his room.

He patted his face and down his chest. There were no injuries or marks—but not a single silvery scar either. He furrowed his brows, his expression changing to intense worry. Where were his marks? The scars that were proof of his purpose?

There was a knock on his door, and before he could utter a reply, it was pushed open and Isabelle poked her head in. "Mom wants to know if you're going to class today. How's your fever doing?" She frowned as she took in his disheveled appearance. "Are you okay?"

Alec snapped out of the flood of memories that had hit him suddenly. He nodded disjointedly. "Y-yeah. I feel better. I'll be down when I'm ready." Isabelle nodded slightly and closed the door.

Alec sat there, his heart beating a mile per minute. It wasn't real. The world of Angels and Demons. Shadowhunters and Downworlders. _Jace and Magnus._ It was all a dream.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw white again. Locking his jaw, he focused intently on his breathing—anything other than the intense desire to scream and hit everything around him. His muscles twitched and ached, and he felt his palms grow wet, but after a few minutes he had managed collect himself.

He still had his sister Isabelle. His little brother Max was alive. His parents had normal jobs. Everything was much better than in his dreams, and yet…

Alec got off the bed, grabbed a set of clothes out of his drawers, and ambled into the adjoined bathroom. He threw the door shut with more force than necessary.

* * *

The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds so the wind felt a lot colder than Alec was prepared for. He rubbed at his arms which were covered in a thin pullover hoodie he had picked up without knowing it would be chilly out. His head ached after Physics class, his body still ached from that virus, and he was uncomfortably cold.

It would still be an hour until his next class so he headed to the University's food court for something warm to drink. He got in line at the little student run Café and stared at the menu, wondering if he should get his usual, black coffee.

"Oh, c'mon, no one's going to notice one measly pump of espresso missing. Just one more—say it slipped if someone tries to give you shit for it."

Alec glanced over the shoulder of the person in front of him to look at the counter where a blonde boy was arguing with the tall barista.

"I don't 'slip' up orders." He gave the blonde an ugly glare, as he practically flicked his drink at him then turned back to prepare another drink. "You're hyper enough without caffeine in your system. Consider my denial a service to society."

Alec could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart resonating throughout his body. The boy's golden mop along with golden brown eyes, were too familiar to belong to anyone else. It was Jace, and yet it wasn't… or was it?

"Hold on, why does Clary get an extra pump!? I thought we were friends, Bane!" The barista leaned over the counter, daintily handing a short red-headed girl—who sported a grateful smile—her drink.

"It's quite simple, Wayland. She tips." He gave the steaming blonde a shit-eating grin before calling out, "NEXT!"

The person in front of Alec went up and began speaking their order, but Alec couldn't hear a single word anymore—his ears were humming with the rush of blood. He stared at the barista's quirky smile, the sparkle in his oddly bright green eyes, and the shimmer of the glitter in his jet black hair every time he moved.

"Calling the blue-eyed angel back to earth, you're next."

Alec's face flushed immediately as he realized he was being stared at by literally the man of his dreams. "I'd uh, can I, uh, a drink, c-coffee… Please. Black."

The barista's smile widened, and without another word, he turned back to the machines to complete the order. All the while, Alec tugged at the collar of his hoodie and nervously shuffled his feet. It was suddenly much too hot and he wanted nothing more than to hide in an igloo and never come back out.

"Coffee. Black. It's on the house, as long you call the number on the cup and answer a couple of questions. You'll also be entered in a contest where you have a chance to win a date with me, but there are only a limited number of entries allowed." He dropped Alec a wink as he slid his drink across the counter.

Alec wrapped both hands around it and held it to his chest, his face probably a medically concerning red by now. "Thanks. I… I will." He knew it was his cue to leave but his legs refused to move. He wanted more time with this man but he couldn't figure out how-

Alec suddenly thrust out his right hand. "I'm Alec, by the way…"

The barista tilted his head slightly, a smirk spreading across his lips. He took Alec's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Magnus. I have a feeling we'll get to know each other very intimately in the near future."

"In my dreams, we already have."

Magnus' smirk faltered and he raised his brows, genuinely caught off guard. Alec was gone in a matter of seconds, turning the corner outside the food court while clutching the coffee cup to his chest with a huge elated smile.


End file.
